(no subject)
Life's been busy. Seriously. I remember the days when I'd roll outta bed (this is after I stopped working out out of sheer laziness,) have a cup of tea, and read the paper, as my harem of women fanned me with palm fronds and held alla that stuff. One day, I woke up from that dream and saw that I had a whole mess of shit to deal with.
I got a promotion at work, presumably to fill the vacuum of day shifts that have suddenly become available. This is pretty damn good, as I'm working pretty much every day next week and at an extra $2 per hour, I can do the same amount of work for even more money! Woo!
Of course, it does have it's drawbacks, as now that I'm essentially a low-level supervisor, I have to regain the respect of my co-workers. There's nothing worse than having co-workers who you were buddy-buddy with suddenly want to pee in your coke because you had them do an unpleasant task, which you yourself used to do until you were able to task them to it.
D'aah, well, such is life. I just hope I do a good enough job to avoid having them walk into the office one day with a paintball gun.
But seriously, I've really run out of time for a lot of stuff! I was supposed to have an episode of the show out on Wednesday and I haven't even ripped the footage, and between real work and the show, I've been forced to choose the former because without it, the show becomes an impossibility and I'll start cooking up crap like Peanut Butter Sandwiches a 'la Elvis.
'The sandwich reached it's peak when Elvis died on the crapper from eating one too many of these fat laden beauties! Here's what you do...'
Friday night, I managed to sneak some time away from the house to hang with four lovely ladies.
- The Police Chief's Daughter, who's chosen a dandy career path as an Emergency Medical Responder, given how accident prone she is.
- The Roomie from a long, long time ago, in a province a few thousand clicks away.
- The Dancer, who I've only recently started establishing rapport with, and
- The Apple Pie Girl, who looks naughty but is actually super nice and rather inexplicably single.
It's a situation I've been finding myself in a lot, as of late. One time, I walked into a pub wearing a pink shirt and requisite Murse as three 'Real Men' had a chuckle and almost certainly breathed the word, 'Fag,' under their breath, before my accompaniment for the night had shown up. I walked into the same pub the next week and two of them were in pinstripes, one had a tiny Murse, and they gave me a friendly, 'Hello!' as I took my seat for the night.
I've received some criticism lately because of this. 'There are plenty of nice girls here, you're just single because you (insert reason here.)' I'm fine with people wondering why I'm not noshing on a girl's neck on a semi-regular basis, but I'm not cool with people telling me why I'm not doing it.
Tonight would be yet another nosh-free night!
'Jon, you're either one lucky guy, or our gay friend.'
'It's the bag, isn't it?'
As it was, I was indeed, the lone male amongst the ladies, who were all highly attractive and really shouldn't be single. Call it a case of the pot calling the kettle black, but hey; everyone's got a different boat to float.
And, well...things were pretty normal. There was no outrageous flirting, or plying them with alcohol in a bid to get them to sleep with me; it felt like I was just hangin' out with the fellows, only this time the fellows had uteri. Dancer left earlier on in the evening, and at the end of the night the other three asked me to head to the bar with them.
'D'aah, naaah, I've gotta work on the show (I didn't) and get some sleep (didn't do that too!) and call the girl.'
Any other guy would've jumped at the chance to head to the bar with three scintillating women, but at 10.45, all I really wanted was a piece of fried chicken and some value-priced pizza.
The whole bit about calling the girl, that was true. I polished off my late-night tuck and went for a night time walk along Stephen Avenue. The weather's getting nicer these days, and I love walking around downtown. Being a Friday night, everybody was either going to party, or heading home from dinner, and it kind of sucked being one of the only unaccompanied men on the street. It's been that way for a long time, but damn, it woulda been nice to have someone to chat and hold hands and just amble down the street with.
I whipped out the new phone to give her a ring, then quickly remembered three important details:
1) She'd lost her phone and wasn't due to get it back for at least a couple of days, and
2) She was probably asleep.
As the fog rolled in, and men and women from different couples gave their mates a long, lingering kiss as they stepped off the train and disappeared into the murky haze of the night, I felt happy for them but just a little bit sad for myself; who'd be there to wish me well and send me off on my own?
No one for now, but soon...